


Wishbone

by kj_graham



Series: Sam's Birthday Bash 2020 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, aka pre-simultaneous sabriel and sastiel cause sam deserves all the love, birthday fic, could be read as pre-sabriel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:00:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23977858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kj_graham/pseuds/kj_graham
Summary: Sam clears his bowl. Nobody says anything as he leaves the kitchen, and Sam’s mood blackens further and further with every step. For as much as he doesn’t like his birthday, he hadn’t realized he was so worthless as to go half the day without a single acknowledgement.Since nobody cares, Sam figures it won’t hurt anything to just barricade himself in his room.He watches Netflix for a while, half-hoping someone will knock on his door. He gets two episodes into a rewatch of Orange is the New Black (he and Cas had watched it together a long, long time ago now) and still nothing. Nada. Zip.Sam falls asleep partway into the third episode. His last thoughts are a bitter tirade; they carry through and make his dreams sour.
Relationships: Castiel/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Hinted Sam/Gabriel
Series: Sam's Birthday Bash 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728088
Comments: 2
Kudos: 64





	Wishbone

**Author's Note:**

> This is for another prompt on Tumblr! quicksilver-ships asked for Sam feeling like his birthday doesn’t matter and no one cares, with Dean/Cas/Jack/Gabe/someone there to assure him it does. This fic hopefully fits the bill, although not even I could have predicted how it ended up going...
> 
> please enjoy!!

Sam wakes at 8:34 AM on Saturday morning. He shakes the nightmare off of his skin, huffs at the blaring neon clock digits, and rolls back over.

Sam wakes the second time at 10:23 AM on Saturday morning. Dean’s banging rather rudely on his bedroom door, and Sam doesn’t particularly care for it. He’s expecting some loud “happy birthday” or something, seen as this is the day he’s been dreading for weeks now, but Dean just shouts something about breakfast.

Sam huffs at his brother’s voice and rolls back over.

Sam finally gets up around noon, wandering through the bunker in his pajamas. He’s only up because he had to pee; then he realized he should probably eat something. Ergo, kitchen trip in pajamas.

Sam kind of hates today. May 2nd has never been a day he’s associated with particularly good memories, and any good memories he has are, well, a little tainted. Jess made his Stanford birthdays good, but those still hurt to look back on. Dad never had time for big birthday celebrations, and with everything that’s happened over the last fifteen years of their lives, Dean never had the time, either.

Sam’s always a little touchy about birthdays. He doesn’t think they really matter that much, especially his. Why they continue to be something people insist on pointing out is beyond him. He should have been dead already. No more birthdays. There are things bigger than him.

So Sam doesn’t really care that today, he turns thirty-seven. Mainly because he doesn’t particularly think he’s worth the fuss anymore; his days of wishing for normal birthday parties are long, long gone.

However, things in Sam’s brain often don’t agree with things in Sam’s heart, and he can’t help but be a little dismayed that he’s gone until noon without anyone wishing him a happy birthday. Hell, Dean didn’t even seem to remember, and it makes Sam’s chest sting.

He’s expecting the kitchen to be empty, but it’s practically a party; Dean’s putting together what looks like a monstrous sandwich even though he just had breakfast an hour and a half ago. Jack and Gabe are sitting at the table, deep in conversation. Jack’s laughing a little. The only one missing once Sam enters is Cas.

Sam’s gearing himself up to wave away birthday wishes—he really doesn’t want them, even though without them he feels like nobody cares—but his brother just grunts a hello and Jack offers him a wave. Gabe nods to him.

That’s it. Nothing. Sam gets not one “happy birthday” throughout his entire time in the kitchen, eating two bowls of cereal at the table. Apparently Dean’s crazy sandwich was an invention for Jack, who continues to listen to Gabe’s stories while he attempts to eat it.

Sam’s a little…surprised? Weirded out? Oddly hurt. Not a one of them has said anything, which, okay, Jack probably doesn’t know Sam’s birthday…and Gabe, well, Sam can never quite figure out exactly what’s going on in that angel’s head…but Dean? Not even anything from Dean? Even when everything’s gone to hell (sometimes literally), Dean always finds the time for at least a simple “happy birthday, Sammy,” and a clap on the shoulder. Apparently that’s not the case this year.

Sam clears his bowl. Nobody says anything as he leaves the kitchen, and Sam’s mood blackens further and further with every step. For as much as he doesn’t like his birthday, he hadn’t realized he was so worthless as to go half the day without a single acknowledgement.

Since nobody cares, Sam figures it won’t hurt anything to just barricade himself in his room.

He watches Netflix for a while, half-hoping someone will knock on his door. He gets two episodes into a rewatch of Orange is the New Black (he and Cas had watched it together a long, long time ago now) and still nothing. Nada. Zip.

Sam falls asleep partway into the third episode. His last thoughts are a bitter tirade; they carry through and make his dreams sour.

When Sam wakes, he isn’t alone. He can tell before he even opens his eyes; the bed’s dipping just a little more. There’s another presence, laying just next to him, and when a hand comes up to smooth over his hair, Sam relaxes into it. _Cas_.

Cas hums. Sam shifts just a bit closer, throwing an arm over his torso, and Cas immediately clasps their hands together.

“When’d you get back?” Sam mumbles. Cas had been away the past couple of days, helping Claire and Jody with something. Sam hadn’t been expecting him for at least another few days.

“About an hour ago,” Cas answers quietly, fingers dancing through Sam’s hair and making him shiver. He loves when Cas plays with his hair and they both know it. “Did you really think I’d miss your birthday?”

That gets Sam’s attention. He finally opens his eyes and props himself up on one elbow. They stare at each other for a moment, Cas looking more and more confused by the second.

“Today.. _is_ your birthday, correct?” He finally says, voice thick with confusion.

Sam nods, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “Yeah, no, yeah it is, I just…you’re the first person today to seem to remember.”

Cas’s eyebrows scrunch together as he frowns. “What?”

“It’s not a big deal, Cas. You’re just the first one to say happy birthday.”

The frown isn’t leaving Cas’s face. “I haven’t even said that yet,” he says in a slightly petulant tone that makes Sam snort. “And you’re really sure…Dean hasn’t even said anything?”

Sam shakes his head. “Nothing. Banged on my door this morning to tell me about breakfast, but no, nothing. But I mean, Cas, I’ve only seen everyone once today anyway. Most of my day’s been in here.”

“Sam,” Cas says in his best why-are-you-like-this voice, “you should be celebrating. Not cooped in our room.”

Sam’s heart jumps a little at “our room,” but he just shrugs again. “C’mon, Cas, I’m not big on birthdays anyway. You know that.”

“Yes, well, they should all still tell you happy birthday,” Cas says, still sounding a bit grumpy over it.

Sam just shakes his head and leans up to press a kiss to Cas’s lips, effectively wiping away the sulky expression.

The rest of the day is…weird. Sam finally gets dressed, and he and Cas venture out into the bunker. Dean and Jack are watching TV; Gabriel isn’t anywhere to be seen, so he’s probably in his room.

Dean grins when Sam and Cas enter the Dean-cave.

“Hey, Cas,” he says amicably. “Didn’t think you’d be back yet.”

“Hello, Dean.” Cas looks to Sam, then to Dean, then back to Sam.

Dean nods to his brother. Sam nods back. Dean turns back to the TV and Cas’s eyes narrow.

He pulls Sam out into the hallway by his elbow. “Does this not seem weird to you?”

Sam scoffs. “I don’t know, Cas, I mean, when are we ever normal? And besides, it’s just another day of the year.”

Cas’s eyes flare with anger. His shoulders square a little. “Not to me. Not to Dean. We all know you don’t get enough recognition. This is your one day that’s entirely for you, Sam. Dean should be acknowledging that.”

Sam’s about to respond when Dean’s smooth voice cuts into the conversation.

“Dean should be acknowledging what now?”

Cas’s whole face flickers with irritation. It’s a face Dean has brought about many times over the years. “Dean,” he groans, “would you please tell your brother his birthday is important?”

Sam’s already preparing to roll his eyes—this really isn’t that big of a deal, but stops cold when he hears Dean’s next sentence.

“Sam doesn’t have a birthday,” Dean says, all matter-of-fact, looking at Cas like he’s missing too many brain cells.

Sam…has no idea what to say to that.

“Dean,” Cas says slowly. “What are you talking about? Of course Sam has a birthday.”

Dean just shrugs, looking completely unbothered. “He hasn’t had one for as long as I can remember. Never seems to bother him, though. I mean, Sam, you never seemed to care, at least.”

Sam’s head hurts from how hard his brain’s working to process this apparent clusterfuck. Dean’s looking at him expectantly, like he’s waiting for Sam to take his side, to back him up.

Sam can’t. He just gapes at his brother, heart pounding in his ribs. Dean looks between him and Cas for another moment before he shrugs and disappears back into the Dean-cave.

“Yeah, okay,” Sam manages, “something’s definitely weird.”

They ask Jack if he remembers Sam’s birthday. Jack rattles off Dean’s birthday and his own, but says that he’s never heard of Sam’s.

Cas practically drags Sam to Gabriel’s room. He barely pauses to knock before barging inside.

“Woah, Cassie,” Gabe calls, “I’d be more careful if I were you, you never know what’s waiting behind my door.” He wiggles his eyebrows. Sam thinks it’s kind of cute, but Cas has obviously run out of patience.

“Gabe, when’s Sam’s birthday?”

Gabriel tilts his head. He dramatically taps a finger to his chin, eyes up toward the ceiling while he seems to mull things over for a second. Then he sends them another grin. “Don’t seem to recall the Samsquatch having one.”

Cas practically growls in frustration. He whirls around, takes Sam’s elbow, and rushes him down the hall to the library.

“You have been here, right?” Cas asks, pacing back and forth across the library floor while Sam leans against the table, arms crossed. “You didn’t go on any hunts?”

“What? No. No opportunity for curses.”

Cas scowls.

“Cas,” Sam starts. “This really isn’t a big deal.”

“It should be,” Cas says, and in one big sigh the anger seems to drain out of him. He comes over to Sam and rests one palm on his cheek. “You’re very important to me, Sam, to all of us. Your birthday is one of the most important days in my existence.”

Sam blushes. Ducking his eyes to avoid Cas’s gaze, he starts fiddling with his shirt. “It’s really not a big deal. Thirty-seven isn’t an important birthday anyway.”

Cas sighs, seeming to realize he’s not going to get through to Sam the way he wants, and presses their foreheads together.

“Really, Cas,” Sam says quietly. He doesn’t like seeing Cas unhappy. Never has. “I’ve been hoping since, like, last week that nobody would bother me about my birthday today. Practically wishing for it.”

Cas hums. He presses a kiss to Sam’s nose, and then his eyes fly open and he pulls back abruptly. “What did you just say?”

“It’s fine that nobody has done anything? I mean, I get it, I’m not worth it anyway.”

Cas’s face looks a bit stony after that last part, and Sam knows his angel will have something to say about it later, but for now Cas is laser-focused. “No. Before that. Did you say you wished nobody would bother about your birthday?”

Sam makes a face. “Well, yeah, but that’s just an expression, I mean, it’s not like it would…come…true.”

Sam and Cas look at each other in horror for a moment. Then Sam scrambles for his laptop and Cas starts going for the books.

* * *

“So, wait wait wait,” Dean says, his mouth half-full, one palm up in the air to make Sam stop talking. “I really just missed most of your birthday?”

Sam grimaces. Dean’s face is neutral enough, but his shoulders are slumping a bit and his eyes are darker than normal. He’s devastated, just hiding it.

“Uh, yeah,” Sam says. “But it’s fine. I mean, it’s my fault.”

Dean scrubs a hand down his face. There’s silence around the table; Cas is sitting by Sam’s side, finally relaxing, and Jack and Gabriel are frowning at Sam.

“I still don’t get it,” Jack says. “What do you mean, you wished for us not to know your birthday?”

“Well, I didn’t exactly mean it that way,” Sam says. “I..didn’t exactly mean for it to happen, either. But I was hoping you guys wouldn’t make a big deal out of my birthday…”

Dean snorts, even if it’s a little bitter-sounding. “Harry Potter, getting his magic legs. You summon a rabbit yet?”

Sam rolls his eyes and flips him off.

“We think Sam does have some magic in him,” Cas offers, leaning forward. “This wouldn’t have happened if he didn’t, and there’s the whole fact that he’s proven with Rowena to have a knack for it.”

Sam makes another face. It makes Jack laugh a bit.

When they’ve finished eating, and Cas and Sam have explained everything about the day that they can, Dean pulls Sam aside. Jack and Cas are heading to the Dean-cave, where Jack wants to show them all a TV show. Gabriel hangs back for a moment to offer Sam a little genuine smile that has something warm spreading like honey in Sam’s chest, and then follows, and Sam’s alone in the kitchen with his brother.

“Thirty-seven today, Sammy,” Dean mumbles. “Wow. Gettin’ old. Gonna hafta start watching out for gray hairs.”

Sam rolls his eyes. Then Dean is crashing into him, pulling Sam into a bone-cracking embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly.

“You didn’t make an accidental wish come true, Dean,” Sam says. He’s attempting to push a little levity into the conversation, but his voice mostly just sounds flat and maybe a little sorrowful.

“Still,” Dean says. He sighs, and one hand reaches up from Sam’s back to tug fondly at the back of his hair, like Dean used to do when they were younger. “Sammy, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you never got good birthdays growing up and I…Fuck, I’m just sorry that you feel like your birthday doesn’t matter.”

“Dean,” Sam says, chuckling a little despite the fact his eyes are burning. “My birthdays weren’t bad growing up. They couldn’t be. I had you.”

Dean responds by hugging him tighter, which Sam hadn’t thought possible.

“You matter, Sam,” Dean says, voice just a little wobbly and a little muffled into Dean’s shoulder. “You matter so fucking much. To me. To Cas. Jack. Hell, even Gabe. Just…please don’t push us away like that again.”

Sam pulls in a shuddering breath. In lieu of speaking, he just nods.

Sam wasn’t lying. He doesn’t love birthdays; nothing will ever really change that. But he meant what he said; all he ever needed to have a good day was Dean. Now, that just so happens to have expanded to include Cas, and Jack, and, more and more with each passing day, Gabriel.

Right now, Sam’s best birthday present of all is just more time with his brother.


End file.
